


A Fragment Is All You Need

by bookersun



Category: IT (2017), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Dreams, Eddie Lives, Fix-It, Internalized Homophobia, Knowing the Future, Love Confessions, M/M, Past and Present, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 19:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20765699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookersun/pseuds/bookersun
Summary: Dreams tells us a lot about ourselves and can come in real handy when you're trying to save the one true love of your life. Love seen from the past helps shape the present for Eddie and Richie who now have a second chance to make things right.





	A Fragment Is All You Need

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we go. I'm not quite sure where this will go entirely, but I have a vague idea. You can except however, a slow burn and happy ending from these two adorable fellas though. I'm here to fix what It: Chapter 2 broke inside of me. I live for happy ever afters. 
> 
> This story will take a look at the past and present, leading up to when they all come back 27 years later. Hope you enjoy if you decide to come along for the ride!

Summer 1992

Every Friday the Losers go to the Hangout. 

Richie, as usual, gets comfortable in his favorite spot in the Hangout. The hammock hangs on the far side of the underground space and Richie pushes past everyone else, busy putting on their dusty shower caps in an attempt to keep the spiders from nesting in their hair. Richie doesn't care about stuff like that. Instead, he uses the opportunity as usual to call dibs on the most comfortable seating in the place. 

Unfortunately, he isn't the only one with eyes on this particular prize. 

“Oh no. Not again Trashmouth! You always get the hammock first and then you never get your ass out of it.” Eddie notices his friend's little stealth mission to procure the hammock while everyone else is distracted, with what he considers to be a worthy cause. If Richie wants his mess of hair to collect all sorts of debris down here that's his problem. His hairbrush however will remain clean, thank you very much. “Move it. Give someone else a turn.” 

Eddie doesn't even really want to sit in the hammock all that much, it's more of the principle of the matter at this point. Richie has a habit of doing whatever Richie wants to do. A slap on the wrist every once in a while is the only way to keep any order with him.

“I gave your mom a turn with me last night, Eds! Doesn't that count for something?” Richie retorts, mock hurt and unfazed by the confrontation. He's already focused on the comic he has in hand. Eddie doesn't even know where he got the comic from, and for some reason he can't quite understand, that fuels his temper even more.

“The hell does my mom have to do with this Richie? Get out of the hammock or I'll force you out!” Eddie yells spurred on by his friends who have started gathering around to watch the little show. He could even here Stan whisper something to Bill, along the lines of “here we go again.”

Richie can only be amused by the little declaration. Over the past couple of years puberty has been kind to him. He now has quite a few inches over everyone else in the group and that bit of knowledge only brings him delight. He moves his eyes away from the comic to finally look at Eddie and ask him just what he thinks he can do in this situation. Little Eddie with his face scrunched up in irritation, looking down at Richie with a look of determination. And just then, all the amusement Richie was previously relishing in leaves his body in one swift motion to be replaced with something else entirely. Something that has been happening a lot lately whenever he finds his attention focused on his best friend. The feeling isn't unpleasant exactly, but it's foreign and the source of it confuses him. Richie's not completely dense though and suspects he would know the answer pretty fast if he actually allowed himself to think about it. Therefore, he pushes the feeling away immediately. If he allows himself to acknowledge what's happening, how will he be able to deny it to himself any longer?

Eddie mistakes the silence as a challenge and takes the opportunity to lunge forward and grab a hold of Richie's ankles, moving his legs to the side so he can squeeze in beside his friend. “If that's how you want it to be, then I guess you'll have to put up with the concept of shared space.” Eddie manages to sound triumphant even as a rogue knee from Richie pushes into Eddie's side. With a little maneuvering, he manages to make himself somewhat comfortable in the cramped space. Maybe this wasn't his brightest idea, but he wasn't about to admit defeat so easily. Richie would be the first to get out, not him. 

Richie however, has remained uncharacteristically silent. He isn't even looking at Eddie. Instead his eyes are focused downward. Starting at something that isn't really there. Except that's not entirely true. Richie knows exactly what he's looking at. A pair of legs that are pale and slim. Lying bare next to Richie's own jean clad legs. The shorts Eddie is wearing today leave very little to the imagination and he has the urge to reach his arm out and lay his hand on the space just behind Eddie's knees. When they were younger that was the only place that Eddie was ever ticklish. A traitorous part of Richie's mind wonders if that spot is still ticklish. His brains starts to convince him that it would be so easy to reach out and touch him there. See what he does, if he recoils his legs up to his chin and looks at Richie with a hint of betrayal at bringing something so personal up when they are so much older. No longer little kids with an innocent touch. 

Before he can do something completely stupid he hears someone clear their throat. He isn't even sure who makes the sound but it's enough to bring him back into reality. A reality where all his friends are staring at him like he has gone completely insane. Richie isn't entirely convinced himself he hasn't. He doesn't realize what he's doing. All he knows is that he's pushing himself out of the stupid fucking hammock that he wished he never even got into in the first place. He hears Eddie give a startled yelp and a cry of “what the actual fuck Rich?” as he clumsily gets himself out of the hammock and in a standing position. The blood is rushing throughout his body. He knows this feeling. The quick and heady mixture of arousal and disgust overwhelms him. Disgust because this is happening right now. In front of his friends, instead of back home in the solidarity of his room where he's safe.

He needs to leave. He needs to leave right fucking now before this turns into something he can't deny any longer not only to himself but to his friends. His friends who are all looking at him expectantly. He doesn't dare look at Eddie, still in the hammock. He doesn't want to know what sort of expression he is giving him right now. 

“I have to go guys. I just remembered something I need to do.” The excuse is pathetic and he's tempted to throw out a one liner about spending some quality time with Eddie's mom, but the thought makes him sick. Instead he turns around and propels himself up the ladder and out. The only thing he hears is a worried “Hey, wait Richie!” from Eddie. That just makes him get out even faster. He grabs his bike and starts peddling home. He makes it back in record time. 

Back in his room, he locks the door behind himself. He's panting against the door. Panicking. Slowly, as the the adrenaline fades and his thoughts start to rationalize, he tells himself that he's fine. No one noticed his private thoughts. Sure, they think Richie is probably losing his damn mind and a little bat shit crazy, but that's fine compared to what they could know. 

They could know that Richie just got a hard-on just from looking at his friends legs. 

Along with his generous height, puberty also gave Richie a healthy sexual desire for pretty much anything that moved apparently. He knew that was another lie though. It wasn't anything that moved, it was anything that had to do with Eddie. His friend who he has known for all these years was always at the forefront of his fantasies when he laid in bed at night and his hand began to drift lower and lower. Thinking about something stupid Eddie said or did was enough to get him off in an honestly sad amount of time and right now was no exception. Without any real thought he began to palm himself over his jeans. The feeling sent a spark throughout his body and he tipped his head back, eyes closed as he put a little more force into the moves. Eddie, with his tight shorts, jumping on top of him. He thought about the times when they would rough house together and somehow Eddie would end up leaning over him with his legs on either side of his hips, keeping Richie in place. Now he imagined what would happen if he took the opportunity to to prop himself up on his elbows and push his lips against Eddie's. If Eddie would pull back and remind him about how dirty the human mouth really is. 

Richie couldn't help but chuckle as he continued his ministrations on his hard dick. Even in his fantasies the germ freak was still ruining the mood. But Richie knew the reason why he was so fond of Eddie was because of those quirks. The reason he liked him so much was because he truly was one of a kind. The realization made him come with a quick gasp, ending it before it had truly picked up. 

Richie stood there breathing hard suddenly aware that he was still standing against the door and now with a hot mess in his pants that was quickly turning uncomfortable. With a sigh he pushed himself off the door and found a clean pair of pajama pants. Once he was changed he flopped down on the bed, with his face pushed into his pillow. A surge of emotion flooded his system, leaving him feeling like an empty husk. All he wanted to do was sleep. He wanted to wake up and feel normal again. As his eyes drifted close, he hoped that by morning he would forget all about this. 

*

Summer 2016

Richie woke suddenly in a fog as the memory of the dream he had fluttered away, long forgotten by the time he was fully awake and able to have a functioning thought. He always tried to keep hold of the dream, something inside told him they were important. That his dreams were a lifeline that he would need to rely on sometime in the future. No matter how hard he tried though, they were gone as soon as he woke up. He heard someone say one time that if you want to remember your dreams, then you should keep a journal by your bed to write them down. He laughed at the idea at first, but now he keeps a journal on his night stand, the pages remain blank though. By the time the journal is open and pen is in hand, the dreams are already washed away. No amount of mediation on the matter helps either. They are simply lost in a bottomless void and soon enough his thoughts are elsewhere. On the day ahead, or rehearsing new material for his upcoming comedy show. 

Soon though, the dreams will become more tangent. Hopefully, they come in time.


End file.
